


Firebird

by Tosca_Dolce



Category: Breach: The Archangel Job
Genre: :), F/M, Intimidating Raphael, Is there a reason why the story is written like this?, Maybe a little more Raphael focused, POV Anthony, POV Gabriel, Raph has no regrets, Raphael has scari eyes, The weird pacing is on purpose, Whether or not Raph truly did love gabe is up to the reader, or does she?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 01:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30081444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tosca_Dolce/pseuds/Tosca_Dolce
Summary: Anthony can't sleep without making sure that his best agent is okay and Gabriel can't help reminiscing on what happened at the mill.(Basically the scene from near the end of the FBI route where mc gets shot and doesn't leave the FBI written in the other two's POV complete with a sprinkling of heartbreak)
Relationships: Gabriel/Raphael (Breach: The Archangel Job), Raphael/Anthony Reville
Kudos: 1





	Firebird

1:50 AM.  
The harsh antiseptic scent of the hospital penetrates through the air in the room and the white light emanating from the overly bright lightbulbs attached to the white ceiling tiles does nothing to soften the empty sterility of the room, staring at the lone clock ticking away at the corner of the room as Anthony lets out a groan of frustration and sits up on his bed after another failed attempt at trying to get in even a hint of sleep, he looks around the room, glossing over numerous medical equipment and generic facilities before his eyes settle upon form lying on the bed adjacent next to his.

Despite him slowly getting used to Raphael's still presence being near him for the past two days, the scenery of her motionless self being hooked up to an IV bag with numerous other medical machinery continues to stir feelings of unease in him that never seemed to diminish no matter how much time had passed.

With a resigned sigh, he slowly slides off his bed and shambles towards Raphael's bed, careful not to exert too much pressure on his left leg, grunting as he finally reaches the side of her bed, using its railing as support.

His hand reaches out to her cold one, resting against the pristine sheet of the hospital bed, an oximeter sticking out on her index finger and her nail polish chipped.

He stops himself, opting to trace on the air above her, only a hair away from making contact, he pulls his hand back to his side, directing his gaze to her face. Her lips had paled and chapped from the cold hospital air and bloodloss, the face that often held a zealous, oddly restrained expression was now fully relaxed, looking almost serene even. 

Her deep eyes that had never failed to grip or even tear into anyone that even glanced into them were now gently closed, yet even with those eyes closed the sight of her still managed to find a way to get its grip onto his heart.

-

The memory of what happened at the Mill is still fresh in Gabriel's head, sending a throbbing feeling at the back of his head, or maybe it's just the concussion he got back at the firefight back at the Mill. Nevertheless, he finds himself drifting back to the events that happened at the Mill.

The moment he did the big stupid by carelessly handing his rifle to Micheal, the one he had previously and ignorantly inserted piercing ammunition into, unaware of what was about to go down.

He curses himself for not expecting his psychopathic, trigger-happy best friend to pull something like that with the presence of an informant exposed, Raphael so close along with everyone else around startled and in a state of shock from the earlier gore explosion from the shot Micheal had taken on Outfit Soldier.

The sound of the shot Micheal had fired at Raphael at such a blitz somehow sounded louder and so much more prevalent than any gunshot Gabriel had ever heard in his lifetime, he remembers his heart seizing at the sound of it, and even now he could still faintly hear its echo reverberating through the Mill in the back of his head.

_"Shoot me, I dare you."_

The memory of how her unyielding wide stare and untrembling voice had managed to get a flinch out of Micheal and even cause a mini civil war to break out between the two of them despite Raphael's incapacitation from being shot and bleeding out on the floor causes him to let out a low chuckle.

He remembers walking over to Raphael's fallen form, kneeling and grasping her onto hand and with his own firmly yet gently, feeling her slow and wearily diminishing pulse, his other hand on her wound in an attempt to slow down the warm blood gushing out of it, continuing to hold her closer, his concealed eyes stare into her deep, now somewhat glassy ones as he pleads for her to make the right choice.

For a moment, she almost looks like she considers averting her gaze in hesitance or perhaps even fear, but the flame that was ever so present in her seemed to persist as she continues to hold his gaze with her own, now oddly gentle but a fully genuine one, her eyes still had the same voluptuous fieriness that was always present as she slowly exerts energy to grasp back his hand. 

"I'm sorry, I can't."

And with those four words, said so resolutely and reposefully with no ounce of fear nor hatred, a wave of crushing disappointment cascades onto Gabriel like a downpour in a hot summer day as she lets her answer seal her fate.

His moment of uninterrupted reminiscing is cut off, however, as he begins to see signs of awakening stirring in Raphael's previously still features, without hesitating he quickly but stealthily makes his way back to his bed, vaulting over a small cabinet and hastily picking up a magazine for him to look preoccupied with as he waits for any signs showing Raphael's full regain of their consciousness.

Then he hears it, a strong heave followed by a sudden cough, harsh and painful sounding, but nonetheless, it was a sign of actual life and not just the occasional scrap of stray movement or turning that had instilled the same paranoid reaction a couple of times before, only to find out that they were merely false alarms.

With a hidden breath of relief, Anthony slowly sets down his magazine and turns in Raphael's direction, once again meeting her's albeit squinted and disoriented gaze.

"Don't worry...everything's gonna be all right."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still getting used to my new way of writing, prolly why everything felt so fast, anyways feel free to leave a kudos, a comment, a recipe, review that includes the physical incarnation of your sins or nothing.


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